DEP
by Jay Tee
Summary: Curious letters start arriving on Dumbledore's desk. People turn up at the strangest places, all of them with memory losses. Voldemort seems to be happy enough... Post Ootp
1. Of Curious Letters

Chapter I - Of Curious Letters

_Professor Dumbledore,_

_Azkaban will be under attack tomorrow. The Lord is determined to have his followers, both those imprisoned and the Dementors. 20 men_

_Yours,_

_-D.E.P.-_

Proffessor Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, sat at his desk at 9 in the evening on July 22nd 1996, when the first curious letter arrived. Several things got his attention. The first was that the letter did not arrive in an envelope, nor was it folded. Second, it did not arrive by owl - it simply appeared on his desk. Third (and mostly important), Dumbeldore had never even heard of someone with the initials D.E.P., let alone received a letter from him/ her about Voldemort's plans.

Dumbledore sighed and leaned back in his chair. Should he trust this person? Severus hadn't told him anything about this, he hadn't even been called for a meeting recently.

He picked up the letter again and scanned it. The information was actually a little useless. No time was given and he didn't have enough trustworthy people to set up another 24-hour guard (including that for Privet Drive).  
As in answer something was 'written' on the parchment.

_4 o'clock_

Dumbledore stared at the page in his hands.

_am_

He blinked. Well, that cleared that question up nicely. Now just the question of trust, he thought sarcastically.

* * *

'Dominique!' 

'Yes, Madam Lestrange?'

'The Master wants to see you.'

Dominique Parcelli hurried through the halls towards the room in which his Master resided, putting on his white mask as he went. It was one of the things he was extremely glad about - the white mask that was required for all Death Eaters. It hid his facial expressions perfectly (and he didn't have to see the faces of any of his collegues either). Some of the things his fellow Death Eaters said or did just made him want to retch.

He reached the most important room in the building and knocked on the large black doors. The cold voice of the Dark Lord greeted him.

'Come in.'

The slithery voice could pierce through anything, even when used in a whisper, and Dominique didn't think he would ever become entirely used to it.

He opened the doors and closed them behind him as he bowed. He then stepped into the centre of the room and bowed once again, deeper this time.

'My Lord called.'

'Yes, indeed I did. I realise that you have been in my service for a fairly short time, but I find myself impressed at your work. I wish you to head tomorrow's expedition.'

'My Lord?'

'I want you to free your fellow Death Eaters from Azkaban. Bring each and every one of them before me, including the Dementors. While those Death Eaterswere some of my most loyal followers, they have failed me once again and they must be punished. It will be your task to carry this out flawlessly. Understood? Consider it a test to come into my Inner Circle.'

'Thank you, My Lord, it will be an honour.'


	2. Of Important Conversations

Chapter II – Of Important Conversations

Dominique hurried through the corridors of Ridde Manor. He was one of the few Death Eaters to live at his Lord's home, and that alone made him very precious to the Dark Lord. He did not have any commitments he had to attend to in either the wizardig or the Muggle world and thus could follow his Master's directions at any given point in time.  
At this point in time, he was making sure he had all the resources to attack Azkaban in the early morning. They were not expecting much resistance from the Dementors and as such Dominique had been asigned a maximum of 20 men and women. However, in case it did go wrong, the potential Inner Circle Death Eater had chosen only lowly Death Eaters, strong enough to hold their own, but not a terrible loss if they had their souls sucked out.  
He had laid out his plan to the Dark Lord, who had approved of them with an air of glee (if he could even feel such a thing).

'Excellent Dominique! You truly are worth a place closer to my side. Enjoy yourself tomorrow, won't you?'

'Of course, My Lord.'

Now he was almost running through the halls of the ominous feeling building, making sure that nothing could go wrong. Half an hour later he decided that he could do no more. He made his way back to his room, locked his door with a quick spell, warded and silenced it and prepared himself for the morning.

* * *

Professor Albus Dumbledore was sitting at his desk once more, his fingers steepled in front of his chin, his eyes gazing speculatively at his guest, sitting in front of him.

'I'm afraid, headmaster, that I have heard absolutely nothing about this and that I have no idea who your 'informant' might be. I suggest that you ignore it. I wouldn't put it past the Dark Lord to set you up several times and then finally attack when you do not turn up anymore.'

The headmaster merely sat gazing at his Potions Master and spy. He blinked, then sat up slowly.

'I'm not sure that is such a good idea, Severus. For some reason I think we can trust this Mr. D.E.P., whoever he or she is. I did get all the necessary information after all.'

'How can you be so sure that He hasn't set you up?' Severus Snape sneered slightly at his long time mentor and employer. Sometimes...

'Of course I can't be sure that it isn't a trap Voldemort has set up. However, I doubt severely that it is.'

'And how is that?'

'I'm afraid I can't explain that, Severus. Simply because I am not entirely sure myself.' Dumbledore paused, his look pensive.

'Gather the Order, Severus. We need to discuss this with the rest of our people to see what we shall do in the morning.'


	3. Of Interesting Meetings

Chapter III - Of Interesting Meetings

It was early morning, 3 am. Professor Albus Dumbledore sat behind his desk, contemplating the people in front of it. On his far left sat Alastor Moody, over-paranoid ex-Auror and the one with the most experience in these things after the esteemed professor himself. To Alastor's left sat Severus Snape, talented Potions Master and Death Eater turned spy. Next in line was Remus Lupin, looking haggard as ever and the determined glint in his amber eyes could be mistaken for madness, but Dumbledore knew better: Remus now had more motivation than ever to seek revenge and bring Voldemort and his followers down.

The last in line, but certainly not any less than most of the males in the room, was the respected deputy headmistress herself, Minerva McGonagall. It was she who broke the rather tense silence they had been held under since he had announced the potential attack on Azkaban.

'Who exactly is this D.E.P. person, Albus?'

Dumbledore smiled slightly: he had wondered who'd ask this particular question. His smile dwindled again, although the sparkle in his eye did not disappear entirely, as he answered.

'I am afraid that I have no knowledge of anyone with the initials D.E.P.'

'I do,' grunted Snape.

Dumbledore smiled and turned full-fledged twinkling eyes on his young friend.

'I was hoping you did, Severus.'

Severus scowled and clasped his hands.

'He is own of the Dark Lord's newest servants. His full name is Dominique Eduardo Parcelli and the Dark Lord seems especially fond of him. He tells us he is a year-old Durmstrang student…'

'He tells us?' Dumbledore interrupted.

'I say he is much too young to be eighteen. He might as well be fifteen, sixteen at most.'

'What does he look like?' growled Moody.

'How should I know? None of us ever take our masks of during meetings. I personally doubt the Dark Lord himself has seen his face.'

'You-Know-Who accepts recruits without seeing their faces?' McGonagall whispered incredulously.

'Stature?' Moody growled again.

'Three inches shorter than I am, he holds himself tall, confident or arrogant, more likely. I presume that he is Italian originally, although his accent is smooth. Dark hair; tanned skin.'

'How strong is he magically?' The question came from McGonagall.

'Average, I'd say, slightly stronger perhaps.'

'He'd have to be fairly strong if he managed to get through Hogwarts' wards. Not even Voldemort has been able to do that yet. Unless he hasn't tried yet,' Dumbledore looked thoughtful for a minute and then returned his attention to the dark-haired spy.

'Anything else, Severus?'

'No, although I wonder where he gets his information from.'

'How d'ya mean?' Moody grunted.

'Unless he is heading this attack, he wouldn't have known the location until he was summoned.'

'Is that why you didn't know about this?'

'Indeed. The Dark Lord suspects someone and does not trust anyone with anything unless we are participating.'

'So you believe this is false information?'

'I do. I believe it is a trap.'

'Ignore it,' was Moody's opinion.

'What do you think, Albus? Is this person trustworthy?' McGonagall asked.

Dumbledore smiled.

'To be honest I do believe that our informant is trustworthy. It is indeed why I called you here at this time. However, as I see it there is a one to two chance. Either our informant is giving false information to trap us. It could also be that he will continue giving us this information until we do stop reacting, resulting in a large scale attack. On the other hand it may be genuine.'

'You trust too easily, Headmaster.'

'I trusted you, Severus.'

'You have never met the man!'

'On the contrary, I do believe I have. His handwriting is familiar, although I do not recall where I have seen it.'

'May I see it, Albus?'

'I am afraid the note vanished not long after I read it, my dear Minerva, I have no idea how.'

'I still say ignore it,' Moody grunted.

The two others nodded. Dumbledore looked towards the one who had stayed silent throughout the conversation.

'Remus, what do you think?'

'Hmm? Oh, I'll go with whatever you decide, Albus. I'm afraid I did not follow the entire conversation.'

'Stupid werewolf,' Snape muttered under his breath.

Dumbledore shot him a look and effectively silenced him before turning back to the thoughtful looking man.

'What is it, Remus?'

'Nothing probably, I just thought I could smell something.'

'What was that?'

'Harry.'

Dumbledore looked surprised.

'You can smell Harry almost a month after his last visit?'

'What? No, no that isn't possible, I must be imagining it.'

'I suspect Potter has a rather strong smell,' Snape said, 'I doubt he ever uses the…'

'Actually no. Harry's scent always seems to blend into the background. A bit like he himself always tries to do.'

'Potter try to blend into the background! Ha, impossible! He is just as arrogant as his father before him.'

Lupin stayed silent but Dumbledore commented.

'I am afraid that you seem to have mistaken there, Severus. Rather like Sirius, I believe. Harry is not James Potter, as you'd find if you looked a little more closely. I'd even go so far as to say that you have things in common.'

'That's all well,' Moody grunted, 'but what are we doing about Azkaban? It's five to four.'

'Well, if we all agree, I do believe that we shall let it be at present.'

The four nodded.

'Very well. I shall see you in the morning.'


End file.
